


Day Off

by 60sbeatlemania



Category: The Beatles
Genre: M/M, McLennon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 18:14:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12371277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/60sbeatlemania/pseuds/60sbeatlemania
Summary: A lazy day in bed spent with the love of Paul’s life. A simple drabble from an avid Mclennon shipper in a soft mood.





	Day Off

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Guess who’s back with another mediocre piece? 
> 
> Anyways I was just feeling soft and decided to write a little something. This was meant to be written in both points of view but someone got lazy. I hope you don’t mind and enjoy anyways!

I lay with my head against his chest,  
my face towards his own and my head rising up and down along with his breathing. I find myself in this position quite often, just listening to his heartbeat. The sun is illuminating his face perfectly, the scene reminding me of a renaissance painting. He’s so beautiful. His carefully shaped eyes, showing every trait but innocent, staring right back at me. I can almost see his most hidden secrets now; a vulnerable look that only appears with my presence and only mine. Those eyes that have seen more than enough pain, but not quite enough joy. His aquiline nose that somehow completes his whole image. The perfectly enigmatic man—alluring, serious, and witty. The combination of his stare and plain aura can make me feel weak in the knees; it’s quite embarrassing how much he’s got me whipped. His auburn hair that, Christ, I feel sorry for anyone that has never met this man, because the black and white photos don’t come close to justifying it’s beautiful color. The hair I’ve tugged on more times than I can ever count. The hair I’ve tangled my fingers into since it was greased back in our teddy boy days, and now styled in the popular Beatle haircut. Although I don’t miss the feeling of the stiff gel against my palm, I do miss seeing his face wholly. Taking the liberty presented to us being alone, I freely brush his hair back and kissed his forehead. A little laugh escapes his lips along with a simple question of “what do you think you’re doing?“ I continued placing light kisses on his forehead, going down to his nose, sideways to his rosy cheeks, and finally on his lips. It’s certainly been years since I first kissed those lips, however I still get butterflies in my stomach and feel the undeniable electricity whenever we touch. The feeling of his strong but comforting lips against mine is a sensation I will never get over. I love this man. Even though he’ll tell me to stop being so queer, I’d love to say these words aloud to him. He always manages to complete me. I only hope he feels the same.


End file.
